


Devotion

by FilibusterMan



Series: Devotion [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Awkwardness, Canon-Typical Violence, Crimson Flower Route, Fix-It of Sorts, Hilda Valentine Goneril Deserves Better, I'm Sorry, Multi, Nonbinary My Unit | Byleth, Past Relationship(s), Possibly Unrequited Love, i hurt myself
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-01-26 06:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21369574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FilibusterMan/pseuds/FilibusterMan
Summary: Byleth ruminates on their unfortunate position because of their choice to protect Edelgard.  They face their unrequited love on the battlefield in Derdriu and wish things could be different.
Relationships: Hilda Valentine Goneril/My Unit | Byleth, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan, Minor or Background Relationship(s), My Unit | Byleth/Hubert von Vestra
Series: Devotion [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861219
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36





	1. Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> Hilda deserves the world. She's baby.  
It was intended as a one-shot, but I hurt myself a little too much.

Byleth had to admit to themself that they had questionable taste, really. Their intense crushes on Dedue and Hubert when first arriving at the monastery were proof. 

It seemed that it was their intense devotion that drew their eyes, made their breath catch, gave them the sensation of fluttering.

Complete devotion to someone else.

Of course Dedue never noticed, or, if he had, he was polite enough not to say anything. Hubert was another matter, his threats turning to silky invective turning to a few very humiliating and mind-blowing sexual encounters before Hubert lost interest altogether. He still used a few spots of physical weakness he had discovered against them when he felt they needed to be knocked down a peg.

So it was a complete surprise when, just after the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion, that they found their eyes resting on Hilda in that same fluttery way. She wasn’t devoted to anyone or anything except her own ease. They had picked her off themself during the battle while she lazed about in the tree line. She had given up immediately,  _ cheerfully _ , and gone off to get patched up and drink something in the shade.

They thought it might pass. It had passed with Dedue, after all, and Hubert, eventually. But as the months went on, it was harder to ignore, getting stronger all the time. They acted as normal on the outside, visiting with everyone, bringing them presents, and inviting people to tea. But they found themself going out of their way to bring Hilda things she might especially like, to always have her favorite tea and snacks, to be ready to drop nearly anything to assist if Hilda were to sigh in her dramatic way and lament something that she simply couldn’t do.

“You’re so sweet, Professor,” was music to Byleth. But they didn’t say anything about it, even when they were desperate to see her when their father died. They didn’t dance with her at the ball. They didn’t climb the Goddess tower to see if somehow their prayers would be answered.

And then it was too late.

Supporting Edelgard hadn’t been an easy choice. That moment, standing between her and Rhea had nearly torn them in two. Neither of them was listening and there was no time and everyone’s eyes were on them and they just didn’t want to fight anymore. They didn’t want anyone to fight.

And then it was far too late.

Five years gone in the blink of an eye. When they had met their students in the monastery, it amazed them how much and how little had changed. The state of the world was a travesty. They cursed themself for allowing it to happen with their absence, but they also wondered if anything would be different if they had been there.

Byleth stood with Linhardt but was too much of a coward to say it. This was insanity. Insanity that they let themself be pulled along with. They had made their choice. Now they were doing their best to salvage what they could. But it was getting worse and worse, harder and harder to see what good this was doing. So much destruction and death. They felt detached, as though it was the time Before: when they were a tool. A particularly deadly one at that. Was this the path?

Going to Derdriu was awful. They didn’t want to fight Claude, didn’t want the Alliance. The fighting was entrenched and terrible from the outset. Their own progress through the city was slow and tortuous.

And they saw her. Hilda. They saw her and they knew. Oh, it wasn’t so out of character to have fallen for her after all, was it? They had seen this, somehow, who she was when her friends’ backs were against the wall and she stood before them, lifting her ax. They felt the need to get to her. Their troops were pressing in on her but she was holding her own.

Byleth dove into the fray, pushing their way towards her. For a few moments they lost sight of her, their mind scrambled, but there she was again. Steady. Their chest ached as they got nearer.

They were close enough now. They signaled their troops to move on. Hilda turned and they stood face to face. She was more beautiful than she had been five years before, even here and now. Something played on her face, a little frown, a softening of her eyes. “Hilda,” Byleth said despite themself.

“Oh, Professor, you remember me? Maybe you should just let me go.”

Byleth edged forward. Despite her words, Hilda’s stance had not changed, still holding her ax before her and watching for an opening. “You wouldn’t go.”

Surprise showed on Hilda’s face for a moment, but then she chuckled, shaking her head. “No,” she conceded. “I don’t think I could.”

Byleth wasn’t sure who moved first, but their weapons clashed. The horrible feeling of the relics meeting washed over them. Byleth guarded but didn’t strike. Hilda pressed forward, her mouth twisting and her brow knitting. Byleth wanted to say something. Anything. But it was all they could do to focus on not falling to Hilda’s ax with so much washing over them.

Hilda took a step back, trying to catch her breath. They eyed one another.

And then magic exploded all around Hilda. A Meteor slammed down on her, the heat searing into Byleth. She cried out in pain. When the magic cleared, Hilda was on her knees, her ax on the ground, singed and bloody. “Sorry, Claude,” she choked out, “it’s been fun…” She started to fall forward, her eyes slipping closed.

No. No no no no no no. They couldn’t let her die here. They wouldn’t. They threw themselves forward, throwing the Sword of the Creator down on the flagstones and catching Hilda before she collapsed against the stones. “Hilda,” they choked out. Their eyes were blurry again, but now was not the time.

Byleth summoned all of their strength and poured it into their faith. They glowed around the edges, and the light built and built until they were a column of living light. Shaking, they pressed their lips to Hilda’s forehead, streaked with sweat and blood, and pushed all of the magic into her. The light faded. Hilda was still unconscious, but she was breathing and there was color in her cheeks again. Byleth stood, scooping Hilda up with some difficulty. Too much. They had pushed too much and now were vaguely nauseous and dizzy. Well, more nauseous.

Suddenly at their side, Lysithea and Raphael, eyes wide. Both of their eyes rested on the limp form in his arms. “Professor,” breathed Lysithea, “your faith-”

Byleth shook their head, grimacing. They didn’t have an answer.

“You lit up!” cried Raphael.

Byleth staggered towards Raphael and he caught them in his arms. Both of them. Lysithea reached out a tentative hand and touched Hilda’s hair. “She’s still alive,” they gritted out. “Raph, please-”

He gave a solid nod. He was often dense, but he always came through when it mattered. He gently took Hilda from Byleth’s arms. They nearly slumped as her weight was lifted. There was a clattering from the next street. “Lysithea,” they said, desperation edging their voice.

“On it.” She ran on.

Raphael reached out a hand and put it on Byleth’s shoulder. “It’s okay that it’s hard, Professor.” Byleth nodded weakly and Raphael ran back towards their lines, easily carrying Hilda away.

They tried to catch their breath. Truly, they wanted to retch. Horrible. The worst yet. Why were they even here? They stumbled towards the sea, the Sword of the Creator clutched weakly in their hand. Nearly to Claude. They wanted to run away from this moment. But they knew that it needed to be them. They might be able to see a way out somehow. The others wouldn’t think to do it or wouldn’t want to. It was up to them.

They fought their way there and tried not to think about spouses or children, mothers or fathers, brothers or sisters. Too much, too much, too much. They slipped into the haze of Before. It had been easier then.

The haze slipped off of them as they stepped up to the fort where Claude was waiting on that beautiful wyvern. “Claude.” They looked into his face. He was more handsome, but he looked so much older. His mischievous eyes were serious, his face stoic. It was haunting.

“I wish I could say it’s good to see you, Teach. Sorry, but I’ll be taking the win today.”

Byleth tiredly hefted the Sword of the Creator. “Sorry.”

They made it quick. Claude fired arrow after arrow, but Byleth pressed into their space. They spooked the wyvern, attacking directly with Fire. Claude was thrown from the saddle and Byleth was on them before either could blink. Claude threw his hands up. “Enough! You’ve bested me.”

Byleth nodded. “Do you yield, then?”

Claude quirked a small smile. “I don’t see that I have much of a choice. But Teach, listen, I bet you’ve figured out why I was able to call in Almyran reinforcements. Don’t you think it’d be better and let me be in your debt?”

They considered each other. “I wasn’t going to kill you, Claude, if I could help it.” Byleth reached their hand down and pulled Claude to his feet. “There’s been...enough of that.”

Claude sighed, closing his eyes briefly. “But will you let me go?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation.

Claude’s eyes snapped open in disbelief before he tried to school his expression. “Really, Teach?”

“Don’t try to talk me out of it,” they chastised lightly. “Just go.”

They looked at each other for a long moment. Words being left unsaid, things that both wished were different. “You saved Hilda, didn’t you? I saw a Meteor headed for her and then a pillar of light. I’m certain it was you; your healing is a unique color.”

Byleth might’ve blushed if they had the capability. Instead, they bit their lip and looked away. “I...I had to.”

Claude patted Byleth’s shoulder. “Thank you. I was counting on her withdrawing. But you weren’t, were you?” Byleth pleaded with their eyes for him to drop it. He smiled ruefully. “We’re out of time, it seems. Take care of the Alliance, Teach. Make sure Hilda gets home alright.”

Claude went to turn away, but Byleth stopped him. “One more thing.”

“Hmmm?”

“I wish I had chosen you.”’

Claude didn’t smile at that. His brow knit for a moment. “Me too, Teach.” He gave a slight salute, swung back onto his wyvern and shot into the sky as Edelgard and Hubert raced up to him. Dark energy was gathering in Hubert’s hand but Byleth Silenced him with a gesture. He turned his eyes on them, fuming. Edelgard simply stared without saying anything.

Hubert grabbed Byleth’s collar. “How dare you! What were you thinking!? He’s gotten away.”

“Claude has retreated,” they said flatly. “Derdriu is won; the Alliance is no more.”

“Why would you spare him!”

Byleth looked past Hubert into Edelgard’s face. Their face was impassive, like the old professor. Something about the sight spooked her. “Enough, Hubert,” she said. “What’s done is done. I’m sure they have a good reason. The professor and I can discuss it later.”

Hubert released them, looking like he needed to spit. He gave them a venomous look and then stalked off.

“Come, Professor,” said Edelgard, pulling herself to her full height. She held out her hand.

Byleth looked at her hand for a few long moments. They flicked their eyes apologetically at her face, then turned and walked towards the encampment without another word.


	2. Justifications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth returns to camp and begins to untangle their actions at Derdriu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I continued it! More sad.

Back in camp, Byleth let their routine carry them. First, they visited with the troops, personally congratulating them on fighting hard for their emperor. This was good for morale and it helped ease Byleth. There was a camaraderie among battalion soldiers that they missed from their former mercenary life. Next, they visited the animals and the stablehands. They made sure they had what they needed and lent a hand for a little while. Then it was a brief stop at their tent to disarm and wash their hands and face. Cleanliness was important for their next stop: the healing tents.

They took their time here. They saw to the wounded and the healers. They were gentle with them, generous. They wanted to give them anything they needed. They could spend hours doing it, but they had a goal today. The last healing tent, where the former students of the Golden Deer stood huddled. It was otherwise nearly empty, but Byleth took their time anyway. It would not be a surprise for anyone when they reached them.

Finally, the last healer spoken with and reassured, Byleth reached the little group. All of the former Golden Deer students watched over Hilda’s sleeping form. They were ringed protectively around the bed except for Marianne, who fluttered about seeing to the patient.

Raphael stepped forward, smiling genuinely and clapping Byleth on the shoulder. “There you are, Professor! You’re looking a little better.”

Byleth smiled thinly. The others looked distinctly more ambivalent about their arrival. “Thank you.” They cleared their throat, feeling awkward. “How…” They rubbed the back of their neck. “-er, how is she?”

Marianne straightened, and Lorenz and Leonie stepped to the side so that they looked at each other across Hilda’s bed. “She needs rest, but the worst was already healed when Raphael brought her to me. She’ll be alright. But...Professor...did you..?”

Raphael threw up his hands, shaking his head. Lysithea sighed, rolling her eyes. “I told you already,” she said testily. “We know what we saw.”

“But...but that would be...” Marianne’s voice was tentative. She wrung her hands, looking at the others. They all looked uncomfortable.

Byleth coughed, frowning. “Treason?” they supplied as steadily as they could.

Lorenz let out a deep sigh. “So it’s true,” he said softly. The tension shifted but didn’t dissipate at all. “Professor, how could you be so reckless?”

“I couldn’t…” They let out a shaking sigh. “I didn’t want her to die.” A silence settled over them. Leonie sat down heavily on a neighboring bed. Raphael joined her and she leaned against him. Ignatz leaned against the wall, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses. Lysithea gazed down at Hilda while Marianne went back to making sure that she was resting comfortably. Lorenz bored a hole in the floor with his gaze, worrying his lower lip with his teeth.

It was Lorenz that broke the silence. “I...I hear you also spared Claude.” His eyes slipped closed, his fist coming to rest over his heart.

Byleth blinked in surprise. They supposed it would not be something that they would be able to keep quiet for long, but they hadn’t expected it to be common knowledge yet. “Yes. I didn’t want him to die, either.”

Lorenz surprised them by giving one of his overly formal bows. He looked into their face with total sincerity and gratitude. “Thank you. I know it was likely...complicated. I want-” His voice broke slightly, but he cleared his throat and rallied. “I mean, those of the former Alliance thank you.”

Byleth’s brow furrowed. There were tears in the corner of Lorenz’s eyes, which he discreetly wiped away as he stood. A possibility occurred to them, the look in his eyes, the tremble in his voice, the relief... They decided not to ask. Somehow, it made this whole thing hurt worse. They looked around to the somber looks on all of their faces. “I’m sorry,” they said, their voice thin and small.

It was like a bubble popped over them.

“Oh, Professor!” said Ignatz, shaking himself as he straightened. “It’s not your fault.”

“We don’t regret being here,” said Lysithea.

“We chose you, Professor,” said Leonie strongly. She flexed her arm. “We would again.”

Byleth nodded, a lump in their throat. “Thank you. Your support means...I’m really grateful to you.”

“General?” came a questioning voice from the entrance to the tent. They all looked up. One of Edelgard’s pages was tentatively entering. “I’ve been asked to fetch you.”

Byleth nodded. “I will be along presently.” The page bobbed and ducked back out. Byleth nodded to their friends. “I am out of time, it seems. I need to speak with the emperor. Marianne, please watch over her.” She nodded. “I will make sure nothing bad happens. Good evening.” They bowed slightly and then left the former Golden Deers behind.

They followed the page at a swift pace, sometimes even surpassing her. It wasn’t as though they didn’t know where they were going, after all. When this happened, the page squeaked and hurried ahead. She paused at the opening of Edelgard’s command tent, looking nervous. Byleth dismissed her with a wave and entered without announcing themself.

Edelgard and Hubert were already locked in an argument. Ferdinand was sipping tea and watching them wearily. Byleth guessed that they were likely locked in a logic loop.

“As I have said, I believe that the professor has their reasons. I would like to hear them before I begin with accusations.”

“She is an enemy general.” Hubert’s voice was poisonous but calm. “This is a war.”

“She is my friend,” said Byleth evenly. All three jumped at their voice, their eyes swiveling to them.

Ferdinand hopped to his feet. “Ah, so glad you’ve joined us, Professor! I’ll pour you some tea.”

Hubert did not wait. “You Healed an enemy general on the battlefield, using quite a prodigious amount of magic. Do not think for a moment that your duplicitousness has escaped notice; everyone at the battle saw that display. Besides that, you allowed Claude von Reigan to quit the field and did not even move to pursue him. Explain yourself.”

“Hubert,” said Edelgard, a warning in her voice.

“Here we are,” said Ferdinand, pulling Byleth to the table and placing a cup of delicately scented tea in their hands. “Two sugars, just as you like it.”

“T-thank you,” stammered Byleth. The one-two punch of Edelgard’s ministers was still not something they were used to. Ferdinand swept them into a chair and everyone sat down.

They sipped at the tea to be polite. It was quite nice, as always. Hubert watched them, drumming his fingertips on the table silently. Ferdinand had ostensibly turned his attention back to his tea, but Byleth could feel his attention on them as well. Edelgard sat ramrod straight, her hands folded in her lap, and waited.

Byleth set down their teacup. “Claude had yielded. Our objective was to secure the Alliance and I achieved that.”

“You didn’t have the authority to spare him.”

Byleth blinked at Hubert slowly. “I disagree.”

Hubert went to speak, but Edelgard shook her head. “Very well. There is some tactical advantage to sparing Claude. Details can be worked out later.” She brushed a hand over her skirts, smoothing them though they didn’t need it.

“And Goneril?” demanded Hubert.

Edelgard shot another look at Hubert, but he was ignoring it. She looked back at Byleth, her face neutral. “I confess, I’m not sure what to make of this report.”

Byleth looked at her. They suddenly felt so, so tired. “Your Majesty. You want to speak of this, but I think it may be better that we do that-” They sighed, tongue-tied. They placed their hands flat on the table. “I think it best we be-that is. Alone. It might be better alone,” they finally managed.

Ferdinand raised his eyebrows, and Hubert completely froze. Edelgard considered this. “Of course, Professor.” She gestured to the others.

Ferdinand stood and bowed. “Certainly. Send for me if you have the need, my lady.” He stood at Hubert’s elbow. Hubert didn’t make a move, so after a few moments of Edelgard and Hubert staring each other down, Ferdinand took his elbow and pulled him out of the command tent. Edelgard watched them go without another word.

When they were gone, Byleth let out a sigh. “Thank you,” they said quietly.

Edelgard picked up her previously ignored teacup. She didn’t sip but simply held it in her hands, running her fingers over the delicate pattern. She waited. She could wait for the professor. When you tried to rush them, their words bunched up. Hubert was very smart, but something about the professor made him impatient, sloppy. She had some suspicions but let them be.

Eventually, Byleth spoke. They looked Edelgard in the face. “I Healed Hilda Valentine Goneril, one of Claude’s generals.”

Edelgard considered this information. It was as Hubert said, then. “Why?” She hoped her voice was light.

“Because I couldn’t watch her die.”

Silence stretched between them again. Byleth’s face was impassive again, but there was something in their eyes. Something wavering and dark. Byleth was leaving something unsaid, but it didn’t feel dangerous. Just...sad. Edelgard swallowed and set down her cup again. “She is...in camp?”

“She is in a healer’s tent. Unconscious. Marianne is seeing to her. They used to be classmates.” The words tumbled out of them. They cut themselves off abruptly.

“She is a prisoner,” said Edelgard gently. The Empire didn’t really take prisoners, but what else does one do with an enemy general?

“No,” whispered Byleth, their voice edging with desperation. They cleared their throat. Edelgard tried to understand. “No, I don’t think that’s necessary. Claude is gone and the Alliance lords will fall into place. L-like Count Glouster.”

“What do you plan to do?”

Byleth looked down at their hands in their lap. “I want to bring her home.”

Edelgard swallowed thickly. “To Garreg Mach?”

“To the Locket.”

Edelgard stood, pushing papers out of the way of the large scale map on the table. The Almyran border, the territory of House Goneril. Lord Holst was famously protective of his sister, even Edelgard knew that. A realization broke over her. “You want to do it now,” she said evenly.

“As soon as she is able to travel. It doesn’t make sense to drag her back to Garreg Mach first.”

“I suppose we can send her home. It will be a show of good faith for the rest of the Alliance territories.” She hesitated. “I will have a team-”

“Edelgard.”

She looked up into her former professor’s face. There was something on their face now, something raw and sad. “Yes, Professor?”

“Edelgard, I’m tired.” They reached out, and Edelgard allowed them to take her hand. “I feel sick. I want to do this myself. I...need to do this.”

Edelgard frowned. For five years, she pushed on without the professor, for much longer she believed in what she was doing though it cost her so much. It had only been a few months since they had joined her again. Had they always been this hesitant? Watching them was confusing. In battle, they were as she remembered them: calm, collected, efficient. But outside of that, they seemed to be fraying around the edges. “You are the backbone of this force. It would be difficult to let you go.”

“You have just taken the Alliance. You have a little time to spare. That’s all I’m asking for. The month.”

Something stung Edelgard about the way they said ‘you’ instead of ‘we.’ She felt the slight tremble in Byleth’s touch. They sat in miserable silence for a little while. “Yes,” she finally said, “I can spare you that long.”

Byleth let out a shaky breath. “Thank you, Edelgard. Thank you.”

Edelgard closed her eyes, squeezing Byleth’s hand in hers. “I suppose you’ll want a few troops.”

Byleth nodded. “I understand if you can’t spare them, but it would be helpful to have some. Just a few. I have been thinking about who would be ideal. I think Linhardt, Caspar, Alois, Ingrid, and Lysithea. Though I want to talk to Lorenz about his father. We’ll need to pass through there on our way.”

“You’re so fast at that.”

Byleth squeezed Edelgard’s hand and she looked at them. They quirked a sad smile. “It’s just instinct at this point.”

Edelgard nodded. “Take them. Let me know when you are ready. I will hope you return to us quickly. You magnify our strength.”

Byleth hesitated. “Edelgard,” they said carefully. “We have talked a little about why we’re doing this.” Edelgard let out a relieved breath at the ‘we.’ “Is there more you can tell me? I feel like...you’re hiding things. We haven’t gotten the chance to sit and talk about what is going on yet. I think...answers might help us both.”

Edelgard shook her head. “I-Not yet. When you return.”

Byleth nodded and rose to their feet. They finally let Edelgard’s hand go. “When that time comes, will you listen to me as well? Even if you don’t like what I have to say?”

Edelgard’s brow furrowed. “Er, yes, Professor. Though I…” Her objections died on her lips at the sight of Byleth’s frown. “Yes,” she reiterated.

Byleth smiled and patted her shoulder. “Thank you. Again. I will come to say goodbye before I leave.” As they left, Edelgard picked up her teacup again, looking thoughtful.


	3. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth confesses to the wrong person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was hard. I swear Hilda will be conscious soon. >.<;

Byleth should've expected the iron grip on their wrist as soon as they exited the tent, should’ve expected the feeling the world being ripped away, should’ve expected their back slammed against some cold brick wall who knows where. If they had been focusing, they would’ve remembered the way Hubert’s eyes flashed in that ‘we’re not done here’ sort of way that they did sometimes. But they weren’t focused on any of that, a little lightheaded with something like relief and already idly wondering if they could find some anemones before Hilda woke up.

Byleth coughed as all the air was knocked from their lungs on impact. Hubert pinned them to a rough wall. “How dare you,” he said, his voice dark and dangerous. More dark and dangerous than normal. “You’re a traitorous beast. I should’ve kept you under lock and key when I had the chance.”

“ _ You _ broke up with  _ me _ ,” they reminded him, wheezing.

Hubert grabbed Byleth’s neck carefully, fingers sliding over the hollows of their throat. They tried not to gasp. The sensation caused a war within them, sensations tripping dangerously between terror and ecstasy. “I never liked you,” Hubert hissed.

“I used to really like you. But I recovered.”

Hubert’s grip tightened slightly. “Lady Edelgard wants you alive. I wonder if she’d be alright with the loss of an eye.” He easily flipped a dagger into his hand, lightly touching it to their cheek. “Or that sassy tongue.”

“You used to like my tongue,” rasped Byleth. They couldn’t decide if they were trying to rile him up to distract him or play for time or something else. Their mind was racing. They had no idea where they were, but it likely wasn’t far from camp. It was dim but not completely dark; it smelled mildewy. Maybe an old outbuilding of some kind.

“Stop prattling.” He lightly twisted the blade in his hand. It didn’t break the skin, but he made Byleth aware of the edge.

Byleth swallowed and changed tactics. “What do you want, Hubert?” Their voice was strained but at least the tone was steady.

“I want to know what you were thinking betraying our lady’s trust as you have.”

“I already explained about Claude.”

“But not Goneril.”

Byleth closed their eyes. “I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you.”

Hubert let up on Byleth’s throat and they took a shuddering breath. “We shall see,” he said coldly.

Byleth opened their eyes again. Hubert was watching them closely. His face was closed off. Byleth frowned. They slowly reached their hand to touch his face. He didn’t stop them, but his eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, not Edelgard...or you.” Hubert gave a derisive snort. He didn’t pull his knife away. They hesitated. “I wasn’t really...thinking, exactly.” His scowl deepened, but Byleth pressed on. “I was more...reacting. My body moved before I could think about what I was doing.”

“Why?” pressed Hubert.

They dropped their hand back to their side. Their hand tightened into a fist. “I-I don’t know.”

“Oh, I think you do.” He dragged the dagger down their cheek, just hard enough to lightly scratch, and touched the point to their neck. “What do you think you can hide from me?”

Byleth flinched. They hadn’t meant to. “I...” they whispered. They wracked their brain, trying to think of something that would satisfy Hubert. What was the truth? In the moment, they hadn’t been thinking about anything except the way that their heart was shattering. There had been nothing but Hilda. Ah. The realization hit them, something they hadn’t been willing to put a name to yet. Something terrible and wonderful, both. “Ah, alright. I’ll tell you. I...I don’t...You’re not going to like it.”

Hubert’s pushed them against the wall a little harder. “Let’s hear it, then.”

“I…” They took a deep breath. “I’m in love with her.”

Hubert dropped both Byleth and the dagger. He had taken a step back and stared incredulously down at them as they pushed themselves back to their feet. “You’re  ** _what_ ** ?” he hissed.

Byleth brushed themself off, not looking into Hubert’s blazing eyes. “I’m in love with her,” they repeated.

Hubert shook his head sharply. “You’re truly pathetic.”

Byleth smiled a small rueful smile. “I know. Ah, but don’t worry. It won’t be a distraction. Soon, I mean. I’m going to...take her home. I’ll...focus better, if I know she’s safe.”

“That is what Lady Edelgard has given you leave to do?”

Byleth shook their head, stooping and picking up Hubert’s dagger. The other snatched it away and slid it into its hidden place on his belt. “I thought you might have been listening. Edelgard has asked you to stop, you know? You don’t want to be hated.”

“It is my job to-”

“Paint the path before her, ensure her victory and safety from the shadows and so forth, yes, yes, I’m familiar.” They strode past him, towards the door. They stopped. “You should stay close to your emperor, Hubert. There are many that wish her harm.”

“Is that a threat?”

Byleth sighed. “Any truth you don’t like is a threat to you, I expect. But no. Not from me.” They turned and looked at him again. “Do not follow me. You are needed here. If you try to split your attention, you will miss something, either in your surveillance of me or in your protection of Edelgard. I think it better you do not leave her open like that.”

He scoffed, then reached out and grabbed their wrist. The world twisted away and suddenly they were standing in front of the command tent again. Hubert released them, and they stumbled. “Thanks for the ride,” they tittered. Hubert’s Warp made them feel dizzy and sick.

“Watch yourself,” said Hubert. “Lady Edelgard cares for you a great deal.”

“Aww, Hubert, you softie.” But their jest was ignored as Hubert walked away. Byleth took a steadying breath. Now. Preparations. Discussions. They tried to ignore the tightness in their chest. Love, love, love kept pounding through their head, but also: traitor, coward, demon, tired, pathetic, weak.

It had gotten dark. They meandered towards their tent, but something at the edge of camp caught their eye in the gloom. The detoured and walked a little ways into a stand of trees. Flowers grew among them, carpeting the ground. In the gloom, it was hard to see what colors they truly were, but their shape was unmistakable.

Anemones.

Byleth let out a sweet sigh. Their thoughts stilled for the moment. They began gathering bunches into their hands.


	4. Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hilda awakens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this took so long. Grad school is eating my life! Have a long chapter to make up for it.

Hilda opened her eyes. ‘Whoa,’ she thought, ‘that’s a bit of a surprise.’ She was looking at the canvas roof of a tent, lying on a cot. Everything seemed to be beige. It was morning, or thereabouts, but still early. Sunlight filtered through the entrance to the tent, but no one else seemed to be stirring.

She shifted to her other side. On the little side table, a plain clay vessel held a riot of flowers: anemones in red and blue. She smiled. Someone was very sweet. Her eyes fell next on the little chair near the foot of her bed, currently occupied by someone very familiar. She gasped, sitting up. “Marianne!”

Marianne startled, dropping the book she had been reading. “Oh, Hilda!” She hopped to her feet, Hilda tried to get up, they tripped over themselves and embraced fiercely. “Oh, I’m so glad, Hilda,” she sniffled.

Hilda laughed, then pulled herself away to look at her friend. “Look at you! You’re so pretty!”

Marianne blushed deeply, ducking her head. But she was smiling, which made Hilda’s heart sing with happiness. “Y-you’re the same as ever,” Marianna stuttered.

“Of course!” Hilda rolled her eyes in her good natured way. “Who wouldn’t be cheerful to wake up to flowers and one of their beloved friends?”

Marianne suddenly looked worried. “Hilda-” she started.

Hilda grabbed her hands and shook her head strongly. “No, no! It’s okay! Everyone had their own stuff going on. Marianne, I’m just glad that you look well.” Marianne bit her lip and nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She blinked, hard, her eyes shimmering. “Don’t cry, Marianne.” Hilda hugged her again. “I am glad to see you now.”

Raphael’s loud, cheerful voice boomed down the tent at them. “Hilda’s awake!” One of the healers shot him a dirty look from his position near a wounded soldier. Raphael looked abashed, lowering his voice. “Oh, sorry.”

Hilda laughed as he approached them. “Hey, Raphael!” Marianne straightened up and Raphael immediately took her place, crushing Hilda in a bear hug. “Good to see you, too!”

He let go and grinned down at her. “Looks like you’re feeling better!” He beamed at Marianne. “Good job, Marianne!”

Marianne blushed furiously. She bowed her head. “Thank you, Raphael.” Her voice was soft but she didn’t seem bothered. Hilda caught her eye, quirking her eyebrow with a smirk. Marianne’s blush deepened.

Hilda stretched her arms above and behind her head, sighing contentedly. “I do feel pretty good, considering.” Silence settled over the three, as they considered ‘considering.’ There was a distinct feeling of ‘what now?’ though its character was different for each of them. For Marianne, it brought a fluttering anxiety, for Raphael it was a genuine confusion. Hilda attempted to keep the thought as neutral as possible and just accept whatever was to come with a stoic’s heart. She didn’t think she’d actually pull it off, but she was determined to grin and bear it. Whatever it was.

Hilda turned her attention to the flowers by her bedside. She swung her legs off the cot and reached over, letting her fingertips drag over the petals of the delicate flowers. “So this is an Empire camp, huh? I kinda expected it to be more...red? That’s probably silly.”

“I thought so, too!” enthused Raphael. “There’s banners and uniforms and stuff, but I figured there’d be more.”

Silence fell over them, but was presently broken when Marianne giggled helplessly. Hilda found herself laughing along. “Hilda!” Lysithea’s voice called. The trio looked up. The rest of the former Golden Deer had entered. Ignatz waved. Lorenz was carrying a vase with roses, of all things, and Leonie brandished breakfast with a cheerful grin.

“Oh, you guys! It’s like a reunion!” There were hugs and laughs while the whole group got caught up. They embraced a moment of warm respite, ignoring Hilda’s precarious predicament for the time being.

Byleth had woken just before sunrise in a cold sweat. Their sleep had been fitful and clouded with anxiety. Their position didn’t seem so indefensible in the early light of dawn. They needed to get moving as soon as possible. Half-cocked schemes and ideas and strategies swirled in their brain. They tried to ignore them, because they seemed to be triggering waves of guilt and nausea.

They got up to wash their face and got dressed. As they slipped their coat on, a black envelope fall out of their pocket onto the ground. They looked at with trepidation. It was sealed with a heavy purple seal of a heavily stylized V. When had he put that there? They were certain it was a summons and knew that it was best that it not be ignored.

They made preparations. Supplies, transport, paperwork. They penned brief missives to everyone they were set on bringing along, sending camp messengers scurrying to and fro. Byleth wanted it to be their own choice to go along; they didn’t think any would refuse. They set a training plan for the remaining members of the strike force and assigned partners for work around the monastery. Most would be fine, but a few relied on their instructions and would feel lost.

Their business mostly settled, they turned their attention back to the missive from Hubert. They broke the seal. Inside the first fold, in quite bold letters, Hubert had written ‘Read alone.’ That was...new. And unsettling.

Byleth ensured they were alone, slipping back into their tent. They read Hubert's missive. It wasn't a summons. They read it again. And then read it again. And once more, for good measure. Just to make sure. Because what Hubert had written, about Those-Who-Slither-in-the-Dark, it had to been nonsense. A joke. A test? But, try as they might, they couldn’t see that he stood to gain anything and besides that Hubert never joked about anything ever at all.

They sat down heavily in their chair. The last thing that this conflict needed was more participants, especially ones as mysterious and seemingly powerful as these. But...from what Hubert was writing, it’s not as though they hadn’t been involved from the start. Besides that, they were responsible for their father’s death. Some pieces were starting to snap into place, and the picture that was coming into focus was horrifying.

They read the letter again (probably unnecessary), which ordered them to consider the safety and stability of the emperor and keep their business short. They tucked the letter into the innermost pocket of their coat, right next to their chest, for safekeeping. This information didn’t change what they wanted to do now, though it might change what they were planning in the long run. They needed more information.

They shook their head. First things first. It was time to get Hilda home. They gathered the last of their things together in preparation. They look a long look in the mirror they kept. They felt the urge to neaten their hair, though it wasn’t particularly messy. They wondered if she would be happy to see them. Would she think they looked alright? Would she smile? Their breath quickened, and they had to banish those thoughts.

They wondered if Hilda was awake. She had been a late sleeper at the monastery. They desperately wanted to go see her. They wondered vaguely if there was something you could bring to someone who was your temporary political/military prisoner but you fully intended for that to not be the case and it was awkward. They doubted it. When in doubt, default to what you know.

Byleth knew tea.

They brewed some rose petal tea, one of her favorites that they had a surplus of thanks to the prostration of Count Gloucester. As they brewed, they idly thought that they should formally thank Ferdinand for getting them into tea in the first place. It was one of the first non-combat skills that they took to. It had become something of an obsession, collecting different teas, trying different brew methods, seeking out perfect pairings with snacks both delicate and robust.

They picked up their teapot by the handle. They felt fluttery and light. They collected a few accoutrements into a jar and put it into their pocket. They gathered up several metal mugs, looping their handles over their fingers. They definitely didn’t want to show up with just two. That would be weird, right? Presumptuous? They aggressively pushed the voice in their head lamenting a lack of an appropriate selection of snacks down.

They took a breath. Just tea. Friendly tea.

They left their tent and strode with purpose towards the healing tents. They had found that if they just kept moving and didn’t make eye contact, they could cross any space this way. Something about their aura read Serious Business and they used that to their advantage when they didn’t want to deal with any discussions.

Some people, however, were completely immune.

“Professor, may I speak with you.” Ingrid stepped directly into their path.

Byleth skid to a stop, hoping that how much she had startled them didn’t show on their face. They recognized that it wasn’t really a question. “Um,” they said eloquently.

Ingrid gave a business-like nod and continued. “It’s about the message I received from you this morning. Professor...are you sure it’s wise to-”

“You don’t have to come,” they suddenly blurted. The shocked look on her face made them wince. “Er. That is, it’s voluntary. But I will be going, Ingrid.”

Her brow furrowed and she laced her fingers together before her. “Okay? I’m just not sure why you would personally see to this, Professor.”

They sighed. “It’s-” They sighed deeply. “-it’s hard to explain. If you don’t want to come, it’s alright. I’ll ask someone else.”

She looked into their face for a long moment. She sighed, shaking her head. “Alright.” She straightened, squaring her shoulders. “When do we leave?”

They smiled, relieved. “You’ll still come? That’s great! We’ll be leaving soon. As soon as I can organize everything.”

She raised an eyebrow at the teapot hanging from their hand. “Organize?”

“Tea is vital to organization, Ingrid.”

She actually laughed at that. “If you say so, Professor. I’ll be ready to deploy. Just say the word.” She bowed to them and walked off.

Byleth apprehensively touched the side of the teapot and was gratified that it was still warm. They hurried on. Their excitement was building. They hoped that it didn’t show on their face. They had to stop themself from bursting into the tent. They took a measured breath and entered.

They smiled. All of the former Golden Deer were gathered in the back, spread between several cots. Hilda was in the center, doing an excellent impression of Manuela to peals of laughter from her former classmates. She looked up.

Their eyes met. Byleth unconsciously clenched, suddenly worried, suddenly very self-conscious. But Hilda smiled sweetly. They nearly melted under the warmth of it. “Hi, Professor!”

Everyone looked up as they joined them. “I brought tea.” They felt quite stupid saying it. They gestured with the teapot, the mugs clinking musically in their other hand.

“You’re so sweet, Professor.”

They felt their knees go weak. Their head exploded. There was singing, music that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. Oh, this was bad. How were they supposed to get her to Goneril if being in her presence was like this? This was even worse than it had been at the monastery.

Vaguely, they felt themself hand out mugs to anyone who took one until they ran out. They poured for Hilda first, offering candied lemon that she took with a sly look. They poured for the others; Marianne had produced a few cups to make up the difference. The teapot was quite empty in short order. There was a moment of quiet as everyone drank, appreciating the warmth and flavor.

“Expertly brewed,” said Lorenz with genuine appreciation. Byleth nodded to him.

“My favorite! I can’t believe you even remembered how I take it.” Hilda reached out and laid a hand on their arm, grinning up at them. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

Byleth nearly choked on their tongue. “You’re welcome,” they managed. Hilda was watching their face quite closely. They wondered what she was seeing but panicked at the very idea of actually knowing. They wanted to shake her hand off their arm. More than that, they wanted to lay their hand over hers. They didn’t dare do either of those things.

Lorenz stood. “Doubtless you have things you need to discuss.” The others, except Raphael, stood. Lorenz gathered Hilda’s mug and Byleth’s teapot. “I shall see that these are cleaned and returned as thanks for a delicious cup. I am at your call when you are ready.” His tone was his patented mix of friendly and formal and brokered no argument. They nodded dumbly as the others took their leave, saying their quiet goodbyes. Marianne pulled Raphael out, though he was clearly confused as to how everyone had decided to leave without talking about it.

Hilda watched them go. She dropped her hand from Byleth’s arm and they felt the loss much more keenly than they were expecting to. She went and sat on her cot, next to the riot of anemones that Byleth had left the night before. She smiled at them and patted the cot next to her.

They swallowed. They sat next to her stiffly. She wasn’t looking at them, instead inspecting the flowers at her bedside. A long silence settled over them. Byleth wasn’t sure what to say or how to begin. Should they apologize? Should they try to reassure her? Break the ice with a compliment or a joke? They were way out of their depth.

Hilda came to their rescue. “They’re absolutely lovely,” she sighed.

“Oh...I’m glad you like them.”

“You always brought me the loveliest things. I had fresh anemones in my room all the time. I saved one in resin and made it into a bracelet. A perfect white one. I meant to give it to you, but…” She shook her head and looked over at them. “Lysithea says that you were asleep for five years. That, for you, the monastery was only a few months ago.”

Byleth hung their head, lacing their fingers together anxiously. “Yes,” they said softly.

“So...you weren’t fighting with Edelgard this whole time?”

They blew out a breath. “Um. Not really. At the monastery-” They choked on it. Standing there, at the time, had been horrible. They didn’t want to think about it, but the feelings rose up to clutch their brain anyway. Ten times worse than Derdriu. Thinking about the fire and the screams and the betrayal that they had committed made them want to curl into a ball or vomit or something to alleviate the guilt and horror. They forced another breath, forced themself to live with the discomfort. “-at the monastery, I was there. I...Rhea buried me in the monastery. They thought me dead, but I survived. I was probably healing. I awoke a few months ago. We had made a promise to meet at the monastery. I didn’t know-” They shook their head. “I didn’t want-I’m...I’m just-”

Hilda leaned against them, her eyes slipping closed. “Thanks for telling me. You don’t have to think about it right now.”

“No, I should. I need-I need to take responsibility.”

She chuckled at that, but it somehow lacked humor. “You are just the same.”

They swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry.”

She sat up and leaned away from them to get a good look at them. She smiled ruefully. “Don’t be. You’re fine the way that you are.”

Oh. The soft look on her face, those words washed over Byleth like a cooling wind. They were so grateful to her. She made it all seem easy. They stared at her helplessly. They wanted to say something that might make her feel even a fraction of how good she made them feel. But they had no idea where to even begin. “Hilda?” they started, unsure.

She tilted her head into her hand. “Can I ask you something else, first, Professor?”

Byleth nodded eagerly. “Yes.”

“Raphael told me, though the others tried to stop him, that you Healed me on the battlefield.” Hilda was watching their face with rapt attention. “When I nearly died in Derdriu after being hit by a Meteor. That you thrust me into his arms and had him carry me to your healers. He said that you saved my life.”

Byleth’s breath caught in their throat. They flailed for a response. Any response. Why was this even harder than explaining to Edelgard or Hubert? “You-” They coughed. “You see-”

“What!?” interrupted Hilda, laughing. “You really did!?”

Byleth’s shoulders fell and they rubbed the back of their neck. “Er...yes?” they said meekly.

She threw her arms around them, and they were so startled it knocked them over. The cot flipped and they ended up on the floor of the tent, tangled in each other’s arms face-to-face. She was so close that their breath mingled. She was smiling softly at them, her eyes sparkling. “You’re just the same,” she said, but this time her voice was warm.

They wanted to kiss her. Her face was so close, she was smiling so sweetly, they were tangled together. Her soft lips called them like a siren’s song. It would be so easy to just lean over and kiss her senseless.

But they didn’t. They let her pull her arms away and sit up, wiping her eyes. She looked back down at them. “Now what?” she asked. It was nothing like an accusation, just a light inquiry like ‘what’s for lunch?’

They cleared their throat as they sat up. “I am going to bring you home.”

She smiled at that. “How chivalrous.”

“Then I am going to end this stupid war.” The acid in their tone surprised them both, but Hilda laughed.

She made eye contact with them again, pulling them both to their feet. “I believe you.”

That was all they needed to hear.


	5. Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth talks to Lorenz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! I am working on this; I've been writing a lot of scenes that will come at the end. The upshot is that I might have a chapter count soon.  
Enjoy!

Lorenz was waiting for them outside the tent, sitting primly on a log while writing in a journal balanced on one of his knees. He looked up with an elegant smile as they exited and tucked the journal away. He rose with purpose and poise. “You wished to speak with me, Professor,” he said, with a little flourish.

Byleth nodded. They reached for their professional face, but it was slightly difficult. They were buzzing, floating on air. A part of them was already on the road with Hilda. “I have some questions before my journey. Do you have some time now?”

“Certainly.” He gestured and they fell into step, striding through the camp. The two of them politely greeted people as they walked. Byleth warmed. They found themself proud of how Lorenz had grown. Though he was still hung up on propriety, he didn’t keep people at an arm’s length any more, and he actually seemed to value people on their merits first now. It struck Byleth that all their students had all grown into admirable people in their own ways. It was the one heartening thing about the state of the world.

Lorenz and Byleth entered his tent. Lorenz offered them a seat, gesturing to a chair at a small table he had set up with a tactical game board. “Apologies. Ferdinand and I are still playing this instance, and we haven’t yet had the opportunity to make a note of the pieces’ positions. I hope it’s not too much trouble.”

Byleth shook their head. “No, no, it’s fine. Er, who’s winning?”

“I don’t think it would be too brash to say that I am, at the moment. However, I will not get ahead of myself. One move can tip the balance of the whole battle.”

Byleth nodded absently, taking a seat and looking at the board. “You’re the black army?” He nodded. Byleth examined the pieces. Ferdinand could topple him in about five moves, if he was aggressive and paid close attention. Lorenz would need to be very cautious to last the eight turns it would take him to dispatch the white army. Byleth flicked their eyes up to Lorenz as he took a seat across from them.

“You would like to know about former Alliance territories that you’ll be passing through, then?”

“Yes, please.”

Lorenz nodded and filled them in on what they should expect. He pulled out and referenced a map occasionally to illustrate, or offered insights gained from his years among Alliance nobility. Byleth listened thoughtfully, occasionally asking a question or for a clarification. He smiled, lightly tossing his hair over his shoulder at the end of his explanation. It had been quite in-depth. He crossed his arms. “Any questions, Professor?”

Byleth took in an even breath. “Of sorts.”

Lorenz looked mildly surprised but not put out. “Absolutely. I’m happy to help.”

Byleth nodded. “I want to ask about Claude."

Lorenz took a sharp breath but pretended he hadn't. “I...I will answer if I can. That is, if I am aware. He is a dear friend, but obviously we have not…” He chose his words carefully. “...been in contact, recently.”

“Can you tell me about how he was as leader of the Alliance?”

Lorenz sighed. “He was quite skillful, actually. He managed to keep the Alliance out of the thick of conflict for quite some time. If Edelgard wasn’t so skillful herself, I have no doubts that he would have held out longer. He managed to talk circles at the Round Table, and keep the schisms mostly contained. Not that my father or his allies made it easy.”

“Your father…”

Lorenz nodded. “He has long been on the side of deference to the Empire. With our position so close to Empire territory, we are among those with the most to lose through open warfare, of course. I cannot say that I always agree with my father, or his methods, but I understand why he has made the choices he has.”

Byleth nodded. They were silent a moment. “Why go home, if you didn’t agree?”

Lorenz didn’t make eye contact. His shoulders were drawn up slightly, tense. “Claude. He-” His voice cracked, but he cleared his throat, blinking strongly, before continuing. “He told me to go home, actually. It matched my father’s desires. I think he thought I might be able to convince my father to preserve the Alliance. We were both a little...optimistic in that regard. I was not-” He swallowed. “I was not strong enough to oppose them both.”

Byleth patted his knee somewhat awkwardly. “Sorry.”

Lorenz shook his head emphatically. “No, it’s alright. He was right, I’m sure. If I had managed to convince my father, it’s possible that I wouldn’t be here. That we would be on opposite sides of this conflict. I shudder to think.” His eyes grew wistful. “Still…” Byleth waited, watching his face. “Still. I wish I could’ve...supported him.”

They nodded again. “I’m glad that he’s not dead.” They blanched. That was such an awkward thing to say. So, of course, they opened their mouth to make it worse. “I mean, I’m glad that I didn’t have to kill him. That he escaped. ‘Cause I always really liked him? But I was a bit surprised, I guess, when I figured him out a little more. When he was a student, I knew he was different, but I never suspected an Almyran pri-” They clapped a hand over their mouth, wishing they could take the last few minutes back. They stared in terror at Lorenz.

He forgot to look surprised, simply watching Byleth. He suddenly realized his mistake and cleared his throat. He raised his eyebrows and placed a hand over his mouth. “Oh, what?” His voice thin and high. The whole effect was very forced. “Claude! From Almyra! Who knew!”

Byleth’s eyes went wide, several things suddenly slotting together in their mind very quickly. They stared at each other. “Y-you knew,” they finally stammered, pointing despite themself. It wasn’t an accusation as much as it was a realization.

Lorenz’s face fell. He huffed, “I ...That is...Yes, alright. He told me. Before we left the Monastery.”

Byleth just blinked at him. They realized that they were shaking their head. “Wha...why?” Lorenz blushed, suddenly standing and turning away. Byleth jumped to their feet. “Sorry, Lorenz! That was thoughtless. You don’t need to-”

“We were close,” interrupted Lorenz. Byleth snapped their mouth shut. Lorenz cleared his throat, still looking away. “Very close.”

“I’m going to try to contact him,” they blurted.

Lorenz whipped around, pressing his hand over Byleth’s mouth with something like a hysterical titter. He bit down on his lip and looked desperately from side to side before fixing them with a hard stare. “Are you insane!?” he hissed, his voice low and tight. “You should not say such things here!” He released their mouth but stayed in their space.

“I’m sorry. I thought you would want to know,” they whispered back.

Lorenz grit his teeth. “...what.”

“I wasn’t going to tell anybody. Maybe Hilda? But we’ll be so close, Lorenz, and I really need to talk to him, and-” Lorenz cut them off by raising a hand. He straightened, closing his eyes and letting a long breath out through his nose. “I-” But Lorenz raised his hand again and they swallowed their words.

Lorenz tugged on his surcoat to straighten it. He ran a hand through his hair, which was already straight and neat. He readjusted the rose on his chest and adjusted his gloves. After he had done all this he opened his eyes. He gestured back to the chairs. Byleth sat and Lorenz pulled his chair close. He crossed his one leg over the other, interlacing his fingers over his knee. “Could you...explain, please?”

Byleth bowed their head, wringing their hands in front of them. “Um...Just...Just a second. I haven’t. I haven’t really said this out loud yet.”

Lorenz gestured that they should proceed and stayed silent, watching their face with a look of polite interest. It was almost like being at tea with him, though they were sitting much closer than that.

“Um.” Byleth swallowed thickly. “I want to...end the war.” Lorenz nodded along, his head tipped slightly to the side. “I think...I think Claude could help me. If I thought I could have contacted him before, I would have. He-he’s very clever, in a way that I am not. It occured to me that I might be able to contact him when I go to Goneril. Maybe just...ask for council? I don’t have a full idea yet, but I have been turning it all over in my brain since I woke up: what I can do, who I can call on.” They put their head in their hands. “You must think me terribly weak-willed.”

Lorenz considered this, leaning back slightly. “I don’t think that someone weak-willed would consider high treason to end a conflict.”

Byleth looked up at him. “Lorenz,” they groaned, pulling their hands down over their face and then into their lap. They clutched their coat.

He shook his head. “No, don’t worry. I will hold your confidence. In fact-” He tried to lighten his tone, but it didn’t really work. “-I might be able to help.” He stood up and went to one of his chests. He sifted through the contents gingerly until he found what he was looking for. He turned, holding a small handsome wooden box inlaid with complex designs of a contrasting wood grain. Lorenz returned to Byleth’s side and held it out.

Byleth took it, quirking a curious look. The box felt completely smooth, with no hinge, lid or even seams where the two woods met. They wondered at it for a few moments before Lorenz’s voice brought them back to reality.

“It is a puzzle box. Only someone who knows the secret of the box can open it. It’s an amazingly complex example. It was a...gift from Claude. For when he returned to Almyra. He knew that we would likely not be able to correspond once he had returned. A messenger along the Almyran border can be asked to deliver this box to Clan Nardel, and it will find its way to him.”

Byleth’s eyes widened and they looked up at him. Lorenz was frowning slightly. “I couldn’t-”

“No,” he interrupted. “It will help you. If this war is over, perhaps I…” He trailed off, biting his lip and looking away.

Byleth ran their hands over the box again, wondering at it. They looked up suddenly. “Write to him,” they said urgently.

Lorenz’s head snapped back to them. “What?”

“You know the secret of the box, I don’t. There’s no need for me to know. You write him, and I’ll deliver it.” They held the box towards him expectantly.

“I-I-I-” Lorenz flushed. “I really-”

Byleth stood, thrusting the box back into his hands. “Please, Lorenz. Tell him to find me at the Throat. Have the box loaded with some rose petal tea in my supplies.”

Lorenz took the box, running his elegant fingers over it with tenderness. “Yes,” he said at last, a little weakly, “yes, I can do that.” He seemed to be turning things over in his head.

Byleth gripped his shoulder and Lorenz looked back up at them. “Thank you. You are a true friend.”

Lorenz smiled and inclined to them slightly. “Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, at your service.”


End file.
